


Auspisticism At Its Finest

by 80sarcaderat



Series: Quadrants and Ships: The Nightmare Never Ends - FAHC Section [2]
Category: Rooster Teeth/Achievement Hunter RPF
Genre: Angst, Ashen Romance | Auspistice, Biting, Black Infidelity, Bruises, Dubious Consent, Extremely Dubious Consent, F/M, Fake AH Crew, Female Jack Pattillo, Gavin is an idiot, Implied Sexual Content, Light Angst, Love/Hate, M/M, Mild Language, Mildly Dubious Consent, Multi, One-Sided Attraction, Pining, Quadrant Confusion, Ryan Isn't Interested In A British Twink, jack is just crew auspitice, jack's sick of their shit, like seriously get a room fuck it out and fuck off, she's the glue keeping these fucks together
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-04-28
Updated: 2019-04-28
Packaged: 2020-01-24 13:55:10
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 872
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18572854
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/80sarcaderat/pseuds/80sarcaderat
Summary: let's fucking admit it jack, matt, and trevor are the crew's main auspitices and keep these stupid fucks from killing each other in unhealthy kismesissitudes and black infidelity.jack-oriented for this though, might write 'bout trevvy and matt later





	Auspisticism At Its Finest

**Author's Note:**

  * For [notkwins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/notkwins/gifts).



> someone stop my homestuck hands
> 
> ily y'all

Jack sighed, taking a sip of her coffee, and listened to the shouts and yells of the twosome in the other room.. A crash, a thud, and finally, a door violently swung open,and Ryan stormed out and down the stairs of the penthouse. He headed to the landing, grabbed his jacket, and slammed the door on his way out.

A few moments later, Gavin emerged, left eye swollen from a punch from a very irate Vagabond. "Mornin'," he mumbled to Jack, heading to the fridge and grabbing a bag of frozen peas out of the freezer, wincing as he placed it on his face. "So, you tried again?" Jack asked, taking another sip of her coffee, eyes closed. She already knew the answer, but she just wanted to hear the Brit say it. "Yeah," he mumbled, kneading the bag on his eye, sighing.

A tense silence hung between the pilot and the hacker, occasionally broken by the shuffle of the peas. "Why?" Jack's question pierced the air, shattering the deafening quiet. Gavin shuffled uneasily, shifting his gaze across the room. He mumbled something unintelligible, looking down. Jack sighed again, and in her frustration, smacked the table hard, causing Gavin to jump.

"Look at me when I'm fucking talking to you! I asked you a question, so I expect an answer!" Jack hated raising her voice, especially at the Brit, but god had he been dodging this question for far too long. Gavin shrugged, still not looking. "Dunno." Jack grimaced, pinching the bridge of her nose, eyes squeezed shut. She'd been keeping these two chucklefucks from murdering each other for the past 2 or so months, all because Gavin decided to catch feelings of sexual frustration and hatred for poor Ryan, who already had more than enough relationship complications to deal with. 

Jack took a deep breath and folded her hands therapist problem-solving style. "Gavin, I'm gonna put this a gently as possible: he hates you, and not in the romantic or loving way. Ryan genuinely hates your guts." Gavin stared at her, blankly, processing what'd he just been told. Jack decided to just flat-out say it, since putting it nicely wasn't getting her anywhere. "He doesn't want to fuck you, Gavin, so stop-" She was cut off mid-sentence by the door slamming open again, followed by the sound of soaking wet leather slapping the floor. Heavy footfalls echoed up the steps, and without breaking stride, Ryan grabbed Gavin by the back of his shirt and hair, forcing a yelp from the man. 

Jack watched in mildly surprised silence as Ryan dragged Gavin back to the room of their earlier argument and slammed the door. For a beat, it was mum, not a noise. Then, a soft squeak broke that silence, followed by more vigorous and aggressive squeaks. Lots of them. Jack decided that it would be best to leave them to their own devices. As much as she hated to admit it, this was probably the best solution to this whole situation. She stepped out onto the penthouse balcony, looking over Los Santos, pouring rain. Her phone buzzed, and she grimaced. A text from Michael. 

 

**_m:_ ** _hey. where the fuck is ryan? i've been waiting for him for 20 minutes._

_**j:** He's..._

_**j:** Busy at the moment_

_**m:**  with what?! _

She paused. Her fingers hovered over the keys, poised to type the one thing Michael never needed to hear. She sighed, looking back out over the city. Jack turned back to the penthouse, door to the two still tightly shut. She looked back at her phone, and typed. 

 

_**j:** Gavin._

 

No reply.  _Oh well,_ she thought,  _at least he knows now._ Taking in a final glance of Los Santos, Jack headed back inside, just as Ryan stepped out, shutting the door behind him. "Well?" She asked, watching him stalk across the penthouse toward the door. He jumped, like a kid who'd been caught out of bed by their parent. "It, uh, it went fine," Ryan mumbled, continuing to the front door. Jack didn't bother to follow him. "Michael wanted to know where you were." Ryan froze, halfway out the door. "What'd you tell him?" He asked, dreading the answer. "The truth." His heart sank. It took a lot to hurt Michael, and this was definitely a blow to their already fragile relationship. 

Neither said anything for a long time, tension in the air strong enough to kill. Ryan finally broke the silence with a sigh, then left, door clicking shut behind him. He'd come crawling back to her for help, eventually. She headed to Gavin's room, opening the door. Gavin was passed out on his bed, pants on the floor, shirt ripped open, covered head to toe in hickeys and bitemarks. They weren't like Michael's, neat and uniform, placed with care; they were feral; violent, unpredictable even. His underwear had been hastily pulled up, barely covering his junk. The room was too dark to make out anything other than the obvious details, so she closed the door with a quiet click. 

Jack went back to the kitchen table and took a seat, swirling her coffee cup. The rain outside began pouring harder. She grimaced and took a sip.

_Fuck. It's cold._

**Author's Note:**

> leave a ah/rt pairing and a quadrant and maybe i'll write 'bout 'em.


End file.
